


the body has needs

by perpetuallycaffeinated



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Body Image, Dom/sub Undertones, Feeding, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Hand Feeding, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, hux has a couple intrusive thoughts, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetuallycaffeinated/pseuds/perpetuallycaffeinated
Summary: So guess who's finished their first (sort of) fic in FOUR YEARS.Set post-TLJ. Hux is disgusted by how much food Kylo eats. By Kylo's logic, he should share it with Hux then. Please check author's notes at the end for additional warnings/explanations.





	the body has needs

Kylo is late to a meeting. That isn’t anything new. The knight has never respected the strict schedule necessary that kept the wheels of the First Order running smoothly. Now that there was no Snoke to answer to, his disdain for Hux’s timetables was even more pronounced. He’d been patiently sitting in an empty meeting room for -- he glances at the time on his datapad.

“Forty-five minutes” he hisses under his breath. He’s been sitting here like a fool for almost an hour, a comprehensive presentation prepared for someone that couldn’t even bother to show up. Hux lets himself have a small fit in the empty room, cursing as he tosses the datapad away from him. It skids to a stop in front of Ren’s empty seat, data about improved granary management blinking back at him forlornly. Of course the Supreme Leader would skip this meeting without even bothering to inform him. There was nothing here that had to do with combat or his damnable mystic path. Nothing important, just plans that made sure his soldiers and subjects continue to _not starve._

Hux drums his fingers against the desk as his brain weighs propriety against anger. Anger wins out. It only takes a curt request for the ship’s computer to inform him that Kylo is in the throne room. He hasn’t even bothered to hide where he is, and it only serves to raise Hux’s ire even further. Hux is fuming when he reaches the throne room’s door. He doesn’t bother knocking, simply keys in his code and marches in. His mouth is already open as he passes the threshold, ready to unleash a scathing lecture that’s been building in his throat for the entire walk. Then he registers what Kylo is doing, and the words freeze on his tongue in cold fury.

Kylo sits on his throne, a table piled with food in front of him. The word “sit” is barely suitable for what Kylo’s doing, slumped down on the throne with his legs spread wide. How he’s keeping himself from sliding off the austere chair, Hux has no idea. Perhaps solely with the force of his contrary nature, or determination to drive Hux to an early grave with stress. Even sitting like a drunken mercenary, Kylo manages to take up an intimidating amount of space on the dais in a  pool of black fabric with only his hands uncovered. The reason is obvious when the man grabs the leg off of some roast bird and brings it to his mouth whole. Hux’s eyes flick down to a set of clean utensils by Ren’s plate, conspicuously unused. He feels his upper lip start to curl.

“What do you want?” Kylo grunts before biting into the leg, practically sucking the meat clean of  tendons and bone. Hux clenches his hands where they’re hidden behind him at parade rest.

“Supreme Leader, you are nearly an hour late for a scheduled meeting. If you are having issues with syncing your timetable, I can have tech look at your datapad.”

Kylo shrugs, licking the length of the now-bare leg bone before trading it for a whole side of the creature’s ribs.

“My timetable’s fine, General. I’ll be there when I’m done eating dinner.” He doesn’t even bother to look up from where he’s turning the slab of meat in both hands, apparently considering the most disgusting way to consume it. Hux knows he should be silent, leave and let Kylo find his way down to the meeting in his own time. It really would be best for everyone involved. Kylo tilts his head and sinks his teeth into the meat like an animal. Hux decides to let anger win out again.

“Would you feel more at ease eating off of the floor, Supreme Leader?”

Kylo freezes mid-bite, his eyes meeting Hux’s over where he’s hunched over the ribs. Hux’s righteous indignation is shot through with a sudden jolt of trepidation. Ren looks like one of the apex predators found in old educational holos, a hulking beast ripping into a still-warm kill. Hux can certainly picture Ren with a blood-stained muzzle. He clenches his fists tighter, raises his chin higher and doesn’t break eye contact with Ren. If Kylo Ren is a predator, he cannot be prey.

“The way you’re eating is -- it -- it’s wasteful, it’s disrespectful to the history of the First Order. It’s _obscene_.”

Kylo steadily stares back at Hux as he twists his head to the side to tear a chunk of meat free. Pieces of it dangle free of his maw for a moment before Kylo snags it with his tongue. It seems like ages as he chews, the wet sound of Ren’s mouth and the creaking of Hux’s gloves loud in the silence.

“I’m touched by your concern for my comfort,” he finally replies, voice edged with an unpredictable sing-song cadence. It’s a warning that Kylo is in one of his capricious moods, but Hux has come too far to leave quietly.

“I don’t doubt that you’re capable of eating like a member of civilized society when you’re not in private, but it’s the principle of the matter.” Hux breaks parade rest to gesture at the table, still full of food. It’s more than twice what he would consume in a single meal. “The Order built its power from the Outer Rim, where food can still be scarce despite our best efforts to allocate resources. Eating only what we need is a sign of solidarity with those beneath us.”

Kylo’s eyes slide up and down Hux, blatantly sizing him up. Hux feels twin threads of pressure snake up and around his waist. Kylo has raised neither hand nor Force against him since the disaster of Crait, but he still tenses up at the sensation. His brain supplies the brief hysterical thought that he’s been marked as prey after all, that Ren’s sizing him up to eat like some great serpent.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re so strict about food,” Kylo hums, marking his words with a brief squeeze from the bands of pressure that still slide over Hux’s torso. “You’re practically just skin and bones under all those layers. You need to eat more.”

“I eat the recommended daily caloric intake for a non-combatant officer,” Hux snaps back.

“Whatever that is, it’s not enough,” Kylo cocks his head to the side and Hux can feel one band of the Force slide in a lazy arc up his sternum. “I can feel your ribs under all that gaberwool.”

Hux feels a chill run up his spine at that. Kylo is using his power to sink past his uniform’s armor, is tracing the frail lines of his body. He’s a mollusk, shell pried open to expose the pitiful meat that lives inside. Hux would rather be strangled again.

“My body has never put on mass easily. Any results from an increase in my food consumption wouldn’t outweigh the cost to the Order’s supplies.”

Kylo shifts in the throne, leaning back and somehow managing to spread his legs even wider. He pats a knee.

“Come here, General. Have a seat.”

Hux goes from cold to hot, knows he’s turn an ugly shade of red in shock. The words are already out of his mouth before he can even think of stopping them.

“You’d have to drag me.”

“Very well.”

Hux steels himself at that. He expects to be yanked forward with the same strength he’d been flung away on Crait, or lifted up by his throat. Instead, the twin bands of pressure expand and gently pull him forward to stop between Kylo’s legs. Hux sneers and lets his toes drag for the short journey. Once Hux has his feet under him again, the bands loosen and pull away entirely. Kylo tilts his head up and quirks an insolent eyebrow up. Pats his knee again.

“You say I eat too much, I say you eat too little. So sit and make me share.”

There’s nothing left to do than relent to this mad whim. Hux tries to perch on Kylo with as much dignity as possible. It’s more comfortable than he expected. Even with his thin leggings, Kylo’s thigh is firm beneath him, thick and wide like the rest of the knight’s body. Hux feels a bit like a captured wench in a bad holodrama.

“Your people starved.” Kylo’s tone is flippant as he leans forward to pull another piece of tender meat from the carcass in front of them. The action presses Kylo’s chest against Hux’s back, but he refuses to lean out of the way. Kylo’s put them in this ridiculous position; let him be inconvenienced. “But that’s over. No one will go without food under my rule.”

“With all due respect Supreme Leader, I find it hard to believe that you’re concerned with such things. You didn’t find it necessary to come to our meeting about grain storage after all.”

Kylo shifts, craning his head around so that they can see eye to eye. He smirks, exposing his crooked canines.

“With _all_ respect, I’m sure, General,” he murmurs, and pushes the piece of meat up against Hux’s closed mouth. Hux only purses his lips shut tighter, even as his mouth begins to water at the scent of the food. He can’t remember the last time he ate something that wasn’t processed. “I grow even stronger without the old man because I can finally eat as much as I need, you know. The Force could fuel the muscles I need to cut down my enemies, but not as well as real food. Only through maintaining my strength can the First Order also be well-fed.”

When Hux still doesn’t open his mouth, Kylo purses his lips in a mock pout and slides a disgusting greasy thumb along the line of Hux’s lips.

“Now open up for your Supreme Leader, Hux.”

Hux begrudgingly obeys and Kylux quickly pushes the meat into his mouth. Despite his determination to merely tolerate this, his eyes flutter closed as he chews. The meat is perfectly cooked, juicy and tender with the flavor of fat and layers of spices. Where had Kylo even found spices on board? Had he requisitioned them himself outside of Hux’s oversight?

“How is it?” Kylo’s voice is pitched lower than usual, the previous teasing cadence gone.

Hux opens his eyes to see Kylo staring at him in rapt attention. He still hasn’t moved his hand away from Hux’s mouth (big, how is everything about Kylo Ren so unbearably big?), thumb pushing against his bottom lip, rubbing it absentmindedly.

“...I mean, is it good?” Kylo adds when Hux fails to reply. His eyes flick back and forth over Hux’s face, jaw flexing with tension. Hux realizes that the question is serious. Kylo wants to know if he likes what he’s fed him.

“It’s good,” he allows. “It’s much richer than our standard rations.” Kylo tilts his chin up and actually puffs his chest out at the faint praise. His thumb still doesn’t move from its steady back-and-forth across Hux’s lips.

“Those who have the wisdom to bow to the might of the First Order will not know hunger again.” Kylo declares it as though he’s making an official decree on holocast, like he doesn’t currently have his top general in his lap while he feeds him by hand. He holds another piece of meat up to Hux’s mouth, who eats it without prompting this time. He remains silent while Hux savors the bite, only speaks once he’s swallowed. His voice is still low, but it’s softened. “Do you believe me, Hux? That I can do that?”

His thumb pushes forward, short nail bumping up against Hux’s teeth. Hux has another moment, an irrational urge to bite his thumb off at the knuckle and swallow it whole. To steal a piece of that power and hide it inside of himself. He lets the compulsion roll around his mind like a loose ball bearing and just presses a soft hint of teeth against the tip of Kylo’s finger. He feels Kylo’s body flinch under him, then shake as he gives an honest laugh.

“Of all the assassination attempts I’d expect from you, cannibalism is a new one.”

Hux freezes. Of all the stray thoughts Kylo could have picked up on, it would be the most violent, traitorous one. This was it, then. To have his neck snapped while eating the best meal he’s ever had.

The expected swift death doesn’t come. Just another piece of meat, another push requesting access to his mouth.

“You block well,” Kylo says, “but you can’t hide your intrusive thoughts at all. Not many people can, if they have them.”

Hux frowns, nose wrinkling in displeasure at the condescending tone, but he relents when confronted with Kylo’s wide, searching eyes again.

“Yes. I do believe that you have the power to provide for the Order, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo’s smile at the response is dangerously real, and Hux feels his body relax. He continues to feed Hux small bites of meat, uncharacteristically slow and methodical, until he’s fed Hux the rest of the ribs. Hux expects to be dismissed once the bones are picked clean, but Kylo grabs his cup and brings that to Hux’s mouth as well. When he raises his hands to steady the cup, Kylo tuts and pulls it out of reach.

“No no. Hands down, Hux.”

Hux fixes him with a glare but obeys, crossing his hands primly in his lap. It’s another unnerving layer of helplessness as Kylo presses the lip of the cup back to his mouth. He’s depending on Kylo to exercise caution, to not pour too quickly and cause him to choke on whatever he was being subjected to. Kylo proves himself to be perfectly capable of giving him a manageable sip; Hux manages to choke all on his own. He’s sputtering the moment he tastes the liquid. It’s strong, something deep like bitter bread, with bubbles that burst inside his mouth and tickle the inside of his nose where it’s invaded his sinuses.

“Kriff, R-- Supreme Leader, what _is_ that?” Hux manages to wheeze after a short coughing fit. To his dismay, Ren looks delighted with his reaction.

“You’ve never had beer?”

“Beer? As in _alcohol?!_ Where did you find beer of all things? Have you been making decisions while you’ve been drinking this poison, Ren? What expenses have you managed to rack up with this new hedonistic lifestyle of yours?” Hux couldn’t help it. The combination of his initial shock and the shit-eating grin on Ren’s face help him start up to a shrill rant. He’s quickly interrupted by a loud screech of metal as the entire table lurches closer with a wave of Ren’s hand.  

“Scoot.” Kylo shifts until he’s sitting back in the chair properly. Hux is forced to slide between Kylo’s thighs to avoid falling onto the floor. Bracketed by Ren’s legs and his arms on either side, it’s almost an embrace. “No beer then, but we still have to finish our dinner.” Hux grumbles that he’s already eaten more than enough, but he still leans back against Kylo’s chest as they situate themselves.

It’s harder for Ren to feed him in this position, but he insists. Hux finds him moving to meet Ren’s hand, enjoying a small thrill of power when he manages to catch Ren’s finger with his teeth again and feels Kylo’s body shudder against him.

Astonishingly, Kylo somehow still has room for more food for himself. He tucks his head his chin over Hux’s shoulder, alternating between feeding himself and Hux more of the rich meat. Teasing Ren with his mouth is enjoyable, but feeling the man chew and swallow with lazy, content puffs of breath is gratingly intimate. Hux doesn’t pull away.

“Don’t worry, Hux,” Ren sighs, soft enough that Hux isn’t sure he’s supposed to hear. “I’ll make sure you get enough, that everyone does. I’ll _be_ enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hux is not strict with food to the point of an eating disorder, but this fic does mention utilitarian caloric restrictions and issues with his body image. There are also a couple instances of Hux having violent intrusive thoughts which touch on cannibalism. There is no actual cannibalism in this fic. Kylo applies the Force to Hux's body without his explicit consent in a non-violent manner. Tagging this as non-consensual touching since Kylo uses it to get a sense of the shape of Hux's body, and Hux finds it unsettling and invasive.


End file.
